Red Dust
by klarolineeuphoria
Summary: When Caroline Forbes is forced to work with her new colleague Klaus Mikaelson on the strange killing of a young girl, both Caroline and Klaus' troubled past come haunting them as they get sucked into a complex web of a serial killer's mind and an undeniable attraction. AH/AU. Inspired by Nordic Noir; series such as 'The Killing', 'Broadchurch', and 'Bron/Broen'. Rated M.
1. Dark Beginnings

**Hi everyone, I'm back on after a medio-long break and this time I will attempt with a multi chapter fic rather than those short drabbles here and there!**

 **I'm greatly inspired by both the fire and passion that all of you (myself included) hold for our one true pairing, by all the gifsets and edits on tumblr, and not to forget: also all the drabbles and multiple full length fics out there in the world wide web Klaroline is air, right?**

 **This story is affected by the strong and ground breaking movement in Scandinavian television better known as 'Nordic Noir', which also affected and inspired shows like British top series 'Broadchurch'. If you watched 'Forbrydelsen' - or in English 'The Killing' - and also 'Bron/Broen' then this fic will probably (I hope) be a story just for you.**

 **Enough of my argumentation for this story now, and onto the beginning of a journey, I can't wait to share with you all!**

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 **Info:**

 **Title: Red Dust (inspired by my favorite singer/songwriter James Vincent McMorrow's beautiful song with the same title - give it a listen if you want to!)**

 **Rating: M (because hello it's me we're talking about)**

 **Chapter 1: Dark Beginnings**

* * *

 _Family dinner. A Sunday tradition. Every Sunday they would gather around the grand table and debate about politics, history, society. They would talk about the week that had passed and the week to come. They would gossip and laugh: the definition of a good time._

 _Despite his deep love for his family, they always misunderstood him. And he hated them for it. It wasn't just the typical teenage reaction to the family, no, because he felt as if the hate and anger grew from within the deepest and darkest pits of him. Comparing himself to his friends, he could sense just how strange his wrath towards his loved ones was. It simply just wasn't normal._

 _On the good days, this dark anger inside his soul scared him. He was afraid of the trembling feeling in his fingers that longed to hurt, that longed to cause pain. Maybe he was sick? Maybe it was just phase? He didn't know. He would never mention it to his parents. They wouldn't understand it anyway. They were too busy focusing on his siblings and their perfect grades. And when they weren't praising said siblings to the heavens of how perfect, sweet children they were, they were too caught up in their own, perfect, magazine-like life_ _,_ _with their grand mansion, remarkable family history, and well-paying careers._

 _Then there was the bad days. On those days he dwelled on the thought of causing pain to anyone or anything. He even felt a kind of rush running through his body, a feeling of ecstasy running in his veins. Birds, mice and even a cat once suffered under these strange tendencies of his. Sometimes he found himself smiling as he took life away from something living, and in a few, rare moments, he realized that it was as if something or someone else took its place in his body and mind. As if he shared said body with another person, a more evil, vicious version of himself. Was that even possible? He didn't know._

 _He was more silent than the darkest hour of the night, as they all sat around the table. He observed each and every single one of them._

* * *

Claire Sullivan was on her regular morning jog through the dense woods of Mystic Falls, when her Springer Spaniel, Ozzy, suddenly whisked off in a different direction.

"Ozzy!" Claire yelled, continuing in the direction she was heading, expecting her dog to tag along as she moved forward. But when he didn't show up, she decided to run in his direction instead.

Minutes later she located him, snarling and barking at a young woman, sitting in a chair.

"Are you alright?" Claire asked, thinking it was a drunk teen sleeping it off (in a chair, deep into the woods).

When the young girl didn't answer, she neared the sleeper carefully. Walking around her, what met her was a horrible sight for anyone no matter how tough a stomach they would have.

The young brown haired girl wasn't sleeping at all. Her head was tilted a bit to the right, eyes wide open, looking emptily into thin air, and her jaw was crushed; torn apart so that her chin rested on the flat chest, dry blood painting her chin and upper body. A pool of blood was underneath the girl, seeping into the forest floor.

Claire suddenly noticed the ropes: hands and feet bound so tightly that the girl was black around her wrists and ankles.

Pale as a ghost, Claire backed away, a scream escaping her throat as she ran towards town. Ozzy tagged along, afraid to separate from his owner. She didn't stop screaming and shaking until she stood at the front desk at the police department, a complete contrast to the bloody corpse she had just found, her skin as white as snow. A state of shock and horror tended to so that to sensitive people.

* * *

She woke up suddenly and unexpected, tears running down her cheeks, her heart hammering loudly against her chest.

The nightmares were still the same; herself at the age of thirteen, running towards her parents bedroom to find her mother bathed in blood, dead eyes staring at the ceiling, several stab wounds collecting in stomach and chest, her father kneeling in a pool of blood by the bedside with bloodstains covering the front of his body, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm sorry Liz, I promise I won't be as mad next time, just wake up!" he slurred, the alcohol had sure done its job as well as it always did. The bloody kitchen knife always seemed so giant and sparkly in her nightmares, always giving her a sense of guilt. Her father had been violent drunk, for as long as she could remember. And every single sleepless night she was reminded that if she had just hidden the knives for him, maybe her mother wouldn't be lying in the ground of the graveyard now.

Sure, her therapist had told her not to feel guilty, and so had all of her childhood friends back in the day.

" _This is not your fault, Caroline. The choice was in your father's hands and he chose wrong,_ " people always told her. But still, that dense, nagging feeling of guilt washed over her whenever she thought of the happy memories; her mom smiling and laughing over all the lame jokes she knew as a child; her mom always praising her cooking skills despite her obvious lack of cuisine expertise; all the evenings where she and her mom had been binge watching 'Friends' because it was both their favorite show of all times, not leaving the couch unless it was to fetch more coca cola and popcorn or an allowed pee-break.

Maybe the feeling of guilt was why she chose to become a cop in the homicide department. Whenever she solved a crime, a tiny part of her own guilt in the result of her mother's death broke off and vanished into thin air. It left her with a lighter feeling in her chest and it was all worth it: despite the eternal trauma of reliving her _real life_ nightmare over and over again.

Caroline checked her phone to see what time it was, and realized that she should have been up approximately 40 minutes ago.

"Shit," she mumbled and jumped out of bed, not giving a damn about the guy waking from his heavy sleep. Almost sprinting to the bathroom, she concluded that she did _need_ a shower but with only 18 minutes until she had to stand at the station, she had to skip it today. Running back into her bedroom, she tore through her mess of a drawer to find some socks and underwear, grabbing yesterday's outfit in a hurry and scrambled back to the bathroom to freshen up as much as the time allowed.

Seven minutes later, she was putting on her leather jacket when the guy from the bar last night stood in the doorway to her bedroom, only in his boxers, mumbling something along the line of "Will you call me?", a rusty, sleepy tone to it.

Checking her pockets for her phone and keys, she opened the door, yelling back, "wouldn't count on it Casanova!" before slamming the door and running to her car.

While driving to the station, the sight of the bloody kitchen knife kept spinning around in her head, guilt and sorrow filling up her senses.

* * *

With a cup of coffee, his gun at its place in his belt and a flask with bourbon in his back pocket, Niklaus Mikaelson was ready for a new day at a new job at the Mystic Falls homicide department. On his already messy desk his brand new badge was reflecting the morning sun as it shone through the blinds of the small office.

He was back in Mystic Falls after several years in New York and actually this job was a gust of fresh air. After everything that happened while in New York, Mystic Falls seemed like the place to be, and Klaus couldn't wait to drown himself in work and bourbon (literally).

Unscrewing the flask, he was about to take a well earned sip, when Atticus Shane banged the door open and waltzed in, clapping his hands.

"Well, well, well, Klaus Mikaelson himself. I wouldn't have believed it even if my sweet mom Dorothea told me this."

He walked towards his desk and forced Klaus to stand up, giving him a manly pat on the shoulder, that archetype smile on his face.

"Good to see you again Mikaelson, I thought I had seen the last of you when I graduated high school. Was New York too big a pool for a big, competitive fish like you?" he joked, obviously profoundly proud of his own sense of humor.

"Sorry to disappoint, Shane, my friend. On the contrary, I find myself attracted to the peace of Mystic Falls for the time being. When I signed the papers, I didn't agree to work here for a lifetime. New York has its charms, but this is home now. And Rebekah never moved away, she married the Quarterback, remember?"

"Ah yes, the Donovan boy! They were the _it_ couple of the freshman's when I was in senior year as far as I remember."

Klaus smirked, though was beginning to be annoyed with his new sheriff's presence. _He really needed that spicy taste of his favorite bourbon._

"They were. Happily married now with two kids. And to add up to the thought of the idyllic family life, they even have a Volvo. My dear sister vowed to drive a nice car and Matt is a man who prefers security high on the list."

Laughing, Atticus was now sitting on the chair on the other side of the desk, his right foot resting on his left knee, clearly feeling himself at home in Klaus' new office. "And what about you Mikaelson, did you tie the knot like your sister? I'm sure there must have been some dashing women in the Big Apple?"

"Luckily, I haven't, Sheriff. And I'm not going to," Klaus replied dryly. He did not feel like sharing his views on love and relationships with his boss at this moment, not now, not ever.

"Ouch, Mikaelson. Someone must really have broken that viking heart of yours," Atticus replied, laughing, before getting up to leave the office. "Well, I'll leave you to it, let's hope we'll get some work our hands today so I can see my new, brilliant investigator in action, hmm?", closing the door behind him.

Klaus sighed loudly, falling deeper into his chair before digging down after the tin flask.

 _No better way to start your first day at work_.

* * *

"Ma'am, I need you to calm down and tell us everything from the beginning. Take a deep breath," Atticus said, letting a supporting hand rest on Claire Sullivan's shaking shoulder. "Whenever you are ready…"

As the startled, young woman began to tell her story again, this time more detailed and clear, Klaus felt the wheels in his head beginning to turn. A murder this horrifying in Mystic Falls, why now? Why at all? A young girl, tied to a chair deep into the godforsaken woods, tortured and disfigured to a state that left the girl completely unrecognizable: why such gruesomeness? This sure wasn't a regular murder, Klaus just knew it.

"Where her eyes open or closed?" a light, feminine voice suddenly asked, catching his attention and Klaus turned around to get a look on the speaker.

The first thing that caught his eye was the gentle features on her face, then the golden, wavy hair that was beyond shoulder length. He felt something inside of him stir, her presence and looks igniting a spark in a dead place he'd forgotten he had. She was absolutely gorgeous, a piece of art. When he noticed the blue-ish green of her eyes, he also noticed that she was glaring back at him with annoyance printed in her look.

"And who the hell are you?" she asked, her jaw clenching slightly.

"Forbes, calm down, this is Niklaus Mikaelson, your new colleague," Atticus explained, laughing a little to ease up the tension. "And he happens to be the best in the field. See him as your yearly bonus, Forbes, you two will be the best investigator team Virginia has ever seen."

Smirking, Klaus turned around in his chair and held out his hand, Caroline taking in hesitantly.

"You can just call me Klaus, sweetheart. A pleasure to meet you," he said truthfully.

"First of all, I'm not your _anything,_ and secondly: Shane, any reason I wasn't informed on this?" Caroline stated, crossing her arms, a bit of cleavage showing in her light blue dress shirt much to Klaus's liking.

"We'll discuss that later Forbes," Atticus said. "You seem to forget that you asked Miss Sullivan a question, so be the fantastic investigator that you are and finished the questioning," patting Caroline on the shoulder to ease her up. _God, Caroline was quite tense these days_.

"Right," Caroline said tightly, shaking her head to regain focus, sending this Klaus person a calculating glare before turning her attention towards the still shaken Claire Sullivan. "I'm sorry about the interruption, Claire, that was quite unprofessional for all of us. Now back to my question: the victim, her eyes, when you found her were they open or closed?"

"Open- they were wide open," Claire replied stammering, her hands shaking nervously in her lap.

"Okay, thank you Claire, that will be all for now. Go home and get some rest and we will pick you up this afternoon for further questioning," Caroline said calmly, sending Claire a reassuring smile.

Klaus instantly watched how this beautiful woman only for a tiny second showed the world another side of herself that seemed so genuinely compassionate and tender: a shred of something that was hidden behind a shield of control and hostility. And somehow that reminded him of his own shield and his own struggles, already feeling a bond to this blonde he only had know for minutes.

He sure knew one thing already: there's was more to this girl that met the eye.

Just before Caroline walked Claire out the room, she caught herself looking at her new colleague for a split second. Why the heck did that cocky asshole have to have such a spine shivering accent? _Men and their dammit charm._

* * *

 **Okay so with this chapter a journey begins. I hope you liked it. I can't promise super fast uploads and long chapters but I'll do my best not to fail you guys!**

 **Hugs from Nat**


	2. Small Steps

**I don't want to say a whole lot besides that it means the world to me that you, yes you dear reader, is tagging along even after only one veeeeery short chapter. I hope you'll like this one ;) And I mustn't forget: a huge and warm thanks to my sweet and kind beta Mik (queencarolinemikaelson on tumblr) - honestly, what should I do without your help, honey?**

 **Chapter 2: Small Steps**

* * *

He was leaning against the doorframe of her office, observing how she moved around the tiny space so gracefully, busy looking for things to put in a bag. He suddenly caught attention to the sign on her door.

"Caroline Forbes," Klaus said, while looking at the sign, testing the syllables on his tongue, both names coming out charmingly different because of the accent. Caroline almost had a heart attack, not having heard her colleague with the back turned towards her office door as she was gathering things to head off to the woods to investigate the crime scene. Irritated, she turned around to put the dslr camera and latex gloves in the bag and glared at Klaus.

"You scared the shit out of me, Mikaelson!" she said, shrilly. "Knocking would be the gentlemanly thing to do."

Klaus smiled, already growing fond of the prickly attitude she seemed so keen on every time he was around.

"It was never my intention to scare you, sweetheart. I just wanted was to see what lovely name stood prior to the archetypal, american last name you have been given. Oh wait - did you speak of me as gentleman? I am truly honored." He said teasingly, arms crossed over his chest.

Surprisingly he found himself actually enjoying her company even though this was only their second interaction: their bond, if you looked at it that way, already had that life affirming feel to it that he hadn't felt in a long time. _It was glorious._

Caroline eyed him immediately, annoyed (and secretly flattered, but he could never know that) with the pet names that he seemed to throw in her direction whenever he spoke. "Mikaelson, again; enough with the petnames. I'm not your anything, I'm your co-worker who's actually trying to get some work done here rather than hovering in someone's office door, playing 'read all signs within a hand's reach'."

Klaus was about to reply her, when she held up a finger, glaring at him.

"I'm not done, smart ass. First of all, I don't see you as a gentleman," – okay she kind of did – especially because of the accent – but she was too proud to ever say it to him – "because that would require that you get to learn _how to be one_ first, okay? And secondly, do you really want to get into a discussion about last names? Mine is firmly american, like my family for decades. Yours though? Mikaelson with a k? Sounds more German or Swedish or something, rather than British. Now get out of my office, I have a crime scene to find and investigate," she stated, slinging the bag over her shoulder, sending him a judging look before walking past him.

He smirked, those typical and Niklaus Mikaelson trademark dimples showing on his stubbled cheeks, before trailing after her down the hall, his eyes accidently falling lower and lower until he eyed her gorgeous ass in the tight, black jeans. _She definitely got the material in her favour._

As she heard his boots clicking against the linoleum floor, she turned around only to have Klaus stand not more than a nose's length away.

"Uhm, why are you following me?" she asked, trying not to get distracted by his obviously handsome face and _oh my god those dimples, as if he couldn't get any more charming._

" _Forbes,_ I'm going with you to the crime scene," he stated matter of factly, staring into her captivating eyes.

"No, you're not."

"Love, you're not the only investigator at the station anymore, remember?"

"That doesn't mean you have to follow me like some lost puppy. I can handle this case alone, _Mikaelson."_

He licked his lips, eyeing her challengingly.

" _Well Forbes_ , you seem like the kind of woman who likes to follow the rules because it's expected of you. I have a theory that you will miss crucial details during the investigation because you do not let yourself live a little and do something different, something unexpected. I, on the other hand, see rules and routines as a killer in themselves. They are meant to be bent and disobeyed. If the two of us make up our own protocol of how this investigation is best possibly solved, I think we will find the killer faster and more precisely."

She shook her head, walking away with a scoff. As they reached the car, he swiftly blocked the car door to the driver's seat so she couldn't get in.

"Move."

"No, I won't," he said teasingly. "Not until you give me your thoughts on the matter."

"I'm not going to deflect protocol just because you tell me to. Got it?" She hissed, in annoyance, glaring at him while he just smiled back at her.

"Why not, sweetheart?"

"No petnames!" She yelled, grabbing the handle but he didn't move an inch, still blocking her way.

"Tell me, why not? What are you afraid of?"

"I wouldn't have been best in my class at the police academy if I ignored protocol, Mikaelson. I like the structure and order that it brings to my work okay?"

"I may not have been the best in my class, but I did have the most successful solving rate during my time at the NYPD. Come on Forbes, live a little…"

Caroline eyed him judgingly, before replying with a sigh, "Fine… whatever. Show me how you _do things_ and when that doesn't work, because it won't, we will do things _my way_ , Mister. Got it? Now, move so I can open the door."

Klaus smiled triumphantly and then crossed his arms again (did he just flex a little?). When he _still_ didn't move, she huffed.

"Let me guess… You want to drive the car?"

"Correct," he laughed, as he leaned in closer to snatch the keys from her hand. "So move it, Forbes."

Klaus watched, still smirking, as she growled in frustration and stalked to the passenger side.

 _She was going to get her revenge some day._

"God, you're unbelievable! Just drive! East side of the town, down the main road," she grumbled before taking her seat in the car, leaning back to stare angrily out the window.

 _Men and their fucking cars._

* * *

"It must be somewhere around here…" Caroline mumbled, as she and Klaus walked through the woods, trying to locate the horrifying crime scene.

They separated and each walked in opposite directions, still within shouting distance, and that was when Klaus suddenly yelled.

"Forbes! I think I found what we are looking for!"

Caroline hurried in his direction and when she saw the bloodied body she could easily understand why Claire Sullivan was so shaken and terrified.

Hoards of flies were hovering around the body, blood and flesh, that was already beginning to rot, providing a feast for them.

Caroline took out the latex gloves, giving a pair to Klaus a well, and also the dslr camera and began taking pictures of the scene, documenting both the body's position, the state of damage and the surroundings.

She then dug into her bag to fetch the sterile equipment she'd need to collect blood, and potential evidence. With a pair of tweezers she collected some hair from the bloody forest floor.

When she turned around, she stated to her own horror that Klaus was crouching in front of the dead girl, gawking at her with an intense stare, quite frankly ruining any evidence that was in front of the body.

"What are hell are you doing?!" Caroline yelled irritated.

Klaus got up and in offense raised his hands while stepping back. "Just trying to understand the motives behind this frightening crime, Forbes. And here I thought we were doing things my way… But you are too busy playing a forensic?"

"So you're suggesting that we just walk away from here without any evidence whatsoever? That we should just sit down and wonder why this murder happened and guess our way to the murderer?"

Klaus rose from his position by the body, and walked towards her as he began to speak.

"No. I just think we should stick to the investigative part on this case and leave the medical examinations to the professionals. All I want to understand here is _why_ this poor thing was left the way she was; why all the theatrics? Why the separated jaw? Why it was necessary for the killer to tie her up like this and leave her for show in the crowded woods. He could just have killed her and buried her somewhere where she would never be found."

As Klaus spoke, his eyes lighting with a spark she'd not seen before, Caroline was forced to consider his words.

Why had the killer done these things? Why had he or she left the body out in the open?

They were questions Caroline never thought to ask. And she was left asking herself a big one 'why had she never asked why?'

She hated that he was actually this good at his job. And she hated even more that he had been right.

Of course - he could not know this. At least not yet. Maybe one day she would give him the praise and tell him how valuable his methods actually were.

And then it hit her, being best in class at school and best in the field were two completely different things.

What if her need for structure, for control and deep down also her need for doing the right thing had limited her to a protocol-following, _average_ investigator?

She swallowed a lump, suddenly realizing that Klaus was looking at her, expecting an answer. "Okay."

The look on Klaus's face showed both amusement but also amazement. "Okay? Is that your answer? You're not going to suggest that my methods are _illogical_ , maybe even _irrational?_ For the hour that I've known you, Forbes, I must admit that I expected you to stand your ground and tell me how foolish I am for qualifying my methods as investigative."

He had hit a nerve and she felt how his words and assumptions made her explode in frustration.

"I am not an average investigator, okay Klaus?! Yes, I have a need for control and order, and yes I like to follow protocol because that is a safe-zone for me that I know I master perfectly! _But yes_ , seeing you in the field and seeing how you would want to solve this crime is new and strange to me. Just give me a freaking second to adjust, okay? I agreed to do things your way and so we are. But me picking up evidence and photographing the crime scene is necessary, so just deal with it okay? Because I am far from average and maybe that is why Shane put us together on this case: we're both good at this job and with our different approaches we could, perhaps, find the killer more efficiently," she said – completely short of breath after her long speech – throwing her arms up in the air, before stalking away to continue finding more evidence. She would not give him the pleasure of seeing her frustration.

"I never said you were average, Forbes. Because clearly, you aren't!" he said loudly, making Caroline turn around to face him again. The honesty sparkling in his eyes didn't go unnoticed.

 _Wow, the asshole actually complimented her_.

Neither of them said anything for a few moments as they stared intensely at each other, the sound of crows in the woods scraping and the flies hovering over the body echoing through the air.

Klaus shifted his weight from one leg to the other, breaking eye contact by looking down at the ground and before Caroline could react he was looking straight at her again.

"Clearly, Shane put us together on this case, Forbes, because we would make a great team, just as you just said. But this case also reeks of rareness because it's not everyday little town Mystic Falls is the scene of such beastly murder. So, how about we shake hands and get over this little spat, and just accept that we each have a special way of doing things, but that this is _strength_ , not a weakness, hmm?" Klaus suggested, holding his hand out to her.

Not needing much time to think about it, Caroline smiled softly.

"That sounds like a deal," she said while approaching him, giving him her hand and in that very moment they both felt a jolt running through their bodies, an undeniable spark igniting and flowing between them.

He smiled back at her; he couldn't help it because her smile was like that first warm breeze of summer on a spring evening with a just as beautiful sunset painting the sky in an orange color with a hint of pink. He held her hand for maybe a bit too long but he didn't care. He truly enjoyed her presence; hoped to get to know her better during the many hours they would spend together.

Without warning the sound of Caroline's scream filled the air and echoed through the dense woods, giving him no time to react before noticing that she was clinging to him for support, her nails digging into his shoulders.

What had caused her sudden embrace was the decaying body. The jaw had broken off the skull, and the noise as well as the gruesome sight had scared the crap out of her. The vision of the body was now more disturbing than it had been, even to her experienced eyes.

Realizing their closeness Caroline found herself staring at those full lips before stepping back, releasing her firm hold on his broad shoulders. "I'm sorry, that was unprofessional… I just–," she laughed nervously. "I just didn't seen that one coming."

Klaus laughed now as well. He genuinely believed that only policemen could laugh about a jaw breaking off the skull of a dead girl. Because he couldn't possibly believe that they laughed because it felt good being in each other's arms.

"We should get back to the station… I got what we needed for Stefan to run some DNA tests. Then he can collect his team and they will pick up the body for further investigation, and we can focus on questioning Claire Sullivan. We should also check up on all the joggers that exercise here, if they saw or heard anything strange the past few days. Maybe that can help us."

"Sounds like a plan. Here," he said before tossing the car key, smirking as he did so.

* * *

"Okay Claire, just tell us how your routine was prior to your jog this morning," Klaus said as he scribbled artistic drawings of nothing on his notepad. This questioning was as easy as a morning swim in the kids' pool; they all knew Claire sure as hell didn't kill that girl and, literally, leave her to rot. And Caroline was next to him in the office where they always held the interrogations and questionings, so he didn't have to be looking at the shaken woman; he knew Caroline would do that because that was just her nature.

Claire Sullivan had regained some of her color since this morning, obviously still shaken and terrified of her find, but she wasn't as pale as earlier.

"Well… I work as a doctor's secretary so I didn't have work until 10am, so I got up at, probably 7:45, dressed for my morning jog, woke up my dog Ozzy and then we just ran from my address towards the woods as we always do."

"Is your route always the same?"

"Not always… Well today I opted for a different route and we ran through a part where it isn't as crowded because I just hate it whenever Ozzy meets another dog, you know. He always wants to play and that's perfectly fine, but it just ruins the flow of my jog."

"So you didn't see anything suspicious on the way to the crime scene? Didn't meet anyone you didn't know or hadn't seen in the woods earlier?" Caroline asked, leaning over the desk, showing Claire that she had her full attention compared to Klaus who drew doodles (very professional) on his notepad, not even present in mind, just in body.

"No, not that I remember."

"Any tire tracks? Anything would be helpful, Claire," Caroline suggested, sending her a calm smile.

"No I'm sorry, officer Forbes."

"It's okay Claire, here," Caroline said while handing her a card with her number. "Just call me if you think of even the slightest wondering from the morning. Really, any lead to help us catch this killer is of greatest help. Now go home and get some sleep. I'm sure Ozzy is excited to see you."

Claire rose, shook hands with Caroline before leaving the room.

As soon as the door closed, Caroline snapped the sketchbook from Klaus's hands.

"Next time we question someone, please be here and do your job, Mikaelson! Now Claire Sullivan will walk away from here and think that one of the detectives didn't even care that she found a bloodied body on her morning jog!"

"Forbes, all I care of is finding the killer. Claire will get through this, I'm sure"

"Ugh you're too much! Have you always been this arrogant?"

"In fact, yes, I have. And why should I care about Claire during an interrogation when you care enough about the woman for the both of us, hmm?"

"Seriously, Mikaelson. Police work isn't just about finding the killer and receiving a medal for it. We have to be there for the victims and witnesses as well, so do better next time!" she huffed before walking out the office, slamming the door.

It pissed her off that he didn't seem to care; about the case, about Claire, about anything! Having been there herself, Caroline just felt that familiar itch of annoyance that she had faced for the first time when her mother was killed.

Sure, the officers back then had been there for her and done what they had to do in order to solve the case of her mother's death, arresting her father and sending him to jail. But the way they had just worked through the case like it was routine; like it was nothing but a folder that had to be filled, well documented and filed in the archives. Their disinterest in the people involved in the crime back then had given Caroline a wound that would never close entirely.

This wound in her broken soul was also one of the reasons she had chosen to become an investigator, she wanted to make a difference to all the victims that tended to be forgotten.

And Klaus's obvious lack of interest in Claire's fright and fear of having found the body of a young woman just scratched that wound open again.

Hopefully her little speech would make it through that thick, annoying skull of his.

Watching the now closed door, Klaus just smiled at Caroline's spat. He did care; just not about Claire Sullivan. He wasn't a fan of showing how much he actually treasured the people close to him, and clearly he was successful in hiding his compassion since Caroline Forbes, the most caring woman he'd met for a long time, couldn't look past his shield.

Digging down into the desk drawer, he found the piece of carved wood he held so dear.

 _A wolf_.

" _Nik, wait up! I have something you!" Henrik yelled as Klaus was about to exit the hellhouse that was their family home._

 _He watched his youngest brother run up the stairs, hearing his small feet run across the floor upstairs to his room and moments later those same feet were running back the same route, down the stairs so fast the he worried his baby brother would trip and fall down the staircase, breaking a leg._

 _Henrik smiled as he ran to him, short of breath when he stopped and handed him a small leather bag._

" _I made it on woodwork class last week. Mr. Harris was so pissed off when he saw I was just sitting in a corner, whittling this for you. We were supposed to make a bird house, but honestly that is just bollocks. Come on Nik, open it!"_

 _Klaus patted Henrik on the head before loosening the leather string holding the bag together. In the bag was a small piece of carved wood, beautiful both to the eye and in the details._

 _Henrik was just like himself at that point, quite the artist with an eye for the beautiful things._

" _A wolf," he stated, feeling the smoothness of the wood and elegant carvings between his rough fingertips._

" _I made it just for you, Nik."_

 _He smiled, genuinely happy for this small present that held so much sentimental value to him already. "Why a wolf, Henrik? Did I really scare you that much with the bedtime stories during the years?"_

 _Henrik laughed, punching him on the arm and Klaus instantly faked a shriek, making his baby brother laugh even more. Their bond was the most symbiotic between all the siblings they had._

" _No, Stupid! Because you are a wolf, Nik."_

" _Henrik, I don't howl when you listen to that hideous hip hop of yours! I simply yell at you to turn down!" Klaus laughed as he tickled his brother._

" _Stop, stop! I surrender!" Henrik said between giggles until their father came into the hall, telling them to shut it._

 _They feared their father, but together they could laugh about situations like this one because it was simply just an innocent moment between two brothers and how on earth could a person be mad about that?_

 _Accidently Klaus dropped the carved wolf, and Henrik glared at him as only a brother can; with a sour expression that between brothers secretly showed how much they cared about each other._

 _He picked up the wolf and gave it to his older brother again. "You're a wolf Nik, a lone wolf. Just like those I've read about in my books. You're misunderstood and you want to be a part of something. But Nik, you're the best brother I have. So you'll always be a part of me. But please don't tell Kol or I'm pretty sure he will beat me up with his bat!" Henrik whispered. "You don't have to keep it if you don't want to, I know you could make one yourself that's way better."_

 _Henrik was about to turn around and run to his room upstairs, but Klaus stopped him, crouching before him and held the gift up between them. "Henrik, never think so low of yourself, okay? I will keep this because you made it for me and the best gifts are the spontaneous ones. I really appreciate it, baby brother. Now, go, do children stuff."_

" _I'm not a child, Nik! I'm nine!" Henrik teased before running off to his room._

 _Klaus rose again to fidget with the carved wood, surprised of how well his younger brother knew him. Henrik hadn't even reached his teens, but he had a capability to read people like open books and that was a true gift of his._

 _A lone wolf._

 _Misunderstood._

 _Part of something._

 _He was a lone wolf for sure since he wasn't the type to have a long term relationship. He had dated girls yes, but nothing serious. He very much enjoyed being himself; enjoyed the freedom in his own loneliness._

 _Li_ _ke_ _an omega wolf trott_ _ing through snow covered woods, observing packs from a distance; always left out and never a part of the big whole._

 _As for being misunderstood, Henrik was right about that as well._

 _Their father was obviously the biggest piece in that puzzle; ever since the Mikaelson's realized that Klaus wasn't Mikael's biological son, but the result of an affair Esther had kept a secret for all those years, Mikael could never look at him the same way again._

 _Their relationship suddenly changed to the complete opposite. Mikael would terrorize Klaus to the point where Klaus felt fragments of himself shatter into millions of pieces, the guilt of being another's son tearing up his soul and foundation._

 _During the years of psychological terror Mikael managed to build a rage inside of Klaus that didn't need much triggering before he exploded._

 _He wasn't proud of this rage he felt growing inside of him every day, and to conceal it he built a wall; a facade of disinterest to people around him. To all people but his siblings, Henrik especially._

 _To them he dared to show his old, loving, kind self because he knew he could trust them. They had shown him that multiple times during the years when they stood up for him whenever Mikael had one of his rage tantrums._

 _Usually it was Elijah who literally stood up between Klaus and Mikael to prevent a fight from happening, always being the moral brother to talk down their father, suggesting him to walk away and let off steam in another and more rightful way._

 _Sometimes during the darkest hours of the night, Klaus would find himself waking up, feeling a hole in his soul. A hole Mikael had left in him._

 _At some point he had finally realized what could fill up that hole:_ _ **love.**_

 _Sure, he wanted to be a part of something, just like Henrik had just told him. But family was a constant. At least it was to Klaus and he knew his siblings would always be there for him. Okay, probably not Finn, but he wasn't worth it either._

 _It was a whole other 'something' Klaus realized he needed to fill up that deep, dark hole in his life._

 _Companionship._

 _Having something truly special with another human being that wasn't family, that didn't share the same, cursed, dark, gruesome blood as he did._

 _But being the omega, the lonely wolf, he may hoped for love to find its way to him, but didn't expect it; because who could love the beast? Who could love the wrong one? The wrong son, the wrong existence?_

He fidgeted the wolf between his fingertips, watched how it had darkened in color over the years; felt how it still had that smooth feel to it that always seemed to calm him and gave him a sense of timelessness.

Henrik's gift always left him in his own little bubble and he'd suddenly realize that he had been sitting with the carving for a long amount of time.

Like now.

 _Caring._

" _... Do better next time!"_

He did care. He cared way too much.

But why would Caroline urge him to show it?

* * *

 _Growing up with siblings was the worst test for him and especially with this expanding need to hurt people, life just seemed so completely unfair and tragic._

 _While reading an old book about torturing methods used during the Middle Ages, that familiar sound of his older sister's bed banging against the wall kept occupying his, mind causing him toss the book onto the desk._

 _Whenever his parents weren't home, his popular sister didn't hesitate to invite guests over, especially male ones, to satisfy the post-teen need for sex, attention and acceptance. After the first five boys he had given up on finding out who they were and just prefered to spend his evenings locked inside of his room. Sadly her room was the one next to his, so it was inevitable for him to NOT hear her moans and curse words as said boys used her for nothing but release._

 _He had noticed that they didn't even stay with his sister, always climbing out the window and down the vines that grew up the house wall, leaving her alone after her own wish._

" _If you ever tell mom or dad, I will kill you," his sister had once told him when he had asked about what boy that kept coming to her room whenever Elias and Dorthea Jones-Zervas were working, golfing, boating or at some cultural event because of their high status in town: "I'm 19, so I can fuck who I want to. And by the way, you're the biggest creep for even listening. Stop that or I will tell mom about that sick book you found at the Library!" she mocked him, pushing him into the wall, before going to her room to clean up after some copulation._

 _Anger rose like a fire within him. He hated her. Celena Jones-Zervas was known for her beauty; for her perfect grades; for her volunteer work at high school. But in the subculture of town all youngsters and teens knew her for her big, dirty mouth; for the fact that she continuously throughout high school had fucked the same teacher to earn said good grades and for screwing everything that gave her the slightest hint of attention; these were they boys who took the climb to her room window._

 _At several moments, like whenever their mother was around and Celena kept being in her good graces and living up to the 'perfect daughter' image, he found himself wanting to just make her shut it. To do something about that big, annoying, evil, cock-sucking mouth of hers._

 _Then, one day, in the book from the Library, he saw a picture that lead to great inspiration._

 _A picture of a jaw torn from the skull, resting beautifully on the top chest of the fine drawn body._

* * *

 **Okay so that was chapter two! I hope you liked it ;) And I also hope these flashbacks aren't too confusing to read because I love writing them: they give the story more depth I think :) Please leave a review, I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

 **Nat**


	3. Drowning in Those Eyes

**Hello, it's me.  
Lol. I'm back with the third chapter of Red Dust and I just want to say a huge thanks if you're still hanging around to read along. **

**Eternal gratitude to my two betas Mik (queencarolinemikaelson) and Shauna (captnklaroline) - what should I have done without you?**

 **Did you notice the AWESOME cover my story has now? I can thank my beta Mik for this one - thanks hun. And btw YAY to reviewers ;)**

 **Chapter 3: Drowning in Those Eyes**

* * *

Caroline walked to the west wing of the station, towards the archives, where Bonnie Bennett, both her childhood best friend and one of the best psychiatrists in the state, had her office.

Since Shane had become sheriff not so long ago, Caroline had encouraged him to hire Bonnie as the station's main forensic psychiatrist. And when she said 'encouraged' she meant 'reminded him that it would be the greatest idea of the millennium every time they crossed paths'.

When he finally agreed to the idea, every office at the station was so crowded, there wasn't any option other than a spare corner down in the archives - thank god the corner had a window - for office space.

Walking along the shelves stuffed with boxes, books, multiple evidences and odd objects from different cases packed away in see-through plastic bags, Caroline found her way to Bonnie's desk.

Having known Bonnie for quite some time now, it was no surprise to Caroline that Bonnie had managed to make the small corner her own _._

Green plants on the window shelf, the bookshelf, and every other spare surface of her desk. A picture of her mother and her Grams. All kinds of things from her travels: souvenirs, odd stuff with some kind of meaning to her and an old postcard with a feather on it. Bonnie had acquired it long ago, longer than Caroline could remember. Her friend just had an adoration for feathers.

Besides the plants and personal items, the desk drowned in case files and text books. Old profiles on various criminals appeared between other documents and Caroline realized that Bonnie always seemed to have her own system in that mess. She always knew where an exact paper was; Bonnie was able to create a cosmos in an universal chaos.

Sensing that someone had walked into her tiny office space, Bonnie turned around in her cheap office chair, causing it to creak slightly, to see Caroline standing there, a slight hint of annoyance in her features.

"Hey."

"Hey Bon", Caroline grinned, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed. "Sorry for sneaking up on you."

"Why the frown, Care?"

"What do you mean?"

"You seem annoyed. Tense even."

"I'm not annoyed." Caroline scoffed. _Dammit, Bonnie knew her all too well._

"But you are. I know you and all your many expressions by now. Tell me, what's on your mind." Bonnie said firmly, smiling as she did so.

"It's just my new partner. I've only known the guy for less than four hours but he's already pushing my buttons, Bon."

"Care, we all know it doesn't take much to push your buttons. Even I do that."

"Bonnie…"

"Sorry, but it's the truth! So, tell me how you feel."

"You did not just go all _shrink_ on me!" Caroline laughed, holding up her hands to seem offended.

"I did. Just talk Care!" Bonnie teased back, knowing that Caroline was just joking with her.

Caroline sighed, aware that she couldn't trick Bonnie so she just spoke from the heart.

"For the first time in a long while I just began questioning my skills as an investigator. Klaus has a whole other set of methods than me, and seeing him in the field, doing a really good job, just made me rethink how I handle an investigation. It made me realize that being best on the academy maybe isn't everything because it's a whole other world in the actual field."

"So you're afraid that Klaus is gonna take your job?"

"No! Well… Maybe I am. Kind of. I love my job and I'm good at it. I know that. I guess I'm just afraid that Klaus is going to replace me in the end."

"Aw, Care," Bonnie said, sympathetically. "Everyone at the station knows that Shane values your effort as an investigator. You've got a great solve-rate, and good judgement. Maybe putting you together with Klaus is Shane's way of improving your skills. I'm sure his intention is to get the best from both of you, because everyone learns new things about themselves and their way of doing things when they're in other people's company. Hell, maybe Klaus could even learn some new, groundbreaking things in your company!"

Caroline wasn't fully convinced, chewing her lower lip, arms crossed in front of her again. Maybe Bonnie was right; that both she and Klaus could learn something from this process. Maybe she could actually teach the idiot something about compassion - it was one of her best qualities after all.

She was about to reply to Bonnie when they both heard footsteps approaching, the owner smirking as he appeared from the shadows of shelves of the archives.

"I hope I wasn't disturbing an important conversation?" Klaus said, eyes on Caroline only.

"Actually, you were," Caroline told him, stiffly, her expression tense as she watched his handsome face with her eyes narrowing. "Mikaelson, this is Bonnie. And Bonnie, this is Klaus Mikaelson, my new partner."

"Bonnie Bennett, isn't it? I heard an awful lot about you from Shane. Only good things, I assure you, sweetheart," Klaus shot Bonnie his infamous smirk. "And a pleasure to finally meet you. I must praise you for all your articles during the years. They are quite the inspiration for my work." Klaus said charmingly, shaking hands with Bonnie, who was left as a smiling mess.

 _Why did he have to be so damn charming?_

"Thank you. I'm glad to finally meet you in person, Shane told us at the last meeting that we'd get a new detective at the station, but I had no idea it was _the_ Mikaelson from NYPD. I heard a lot about you from my friend Lucca, who's an attorney in New York. You really have quite the resume from your career ther–"

"Wait a second. You moved here, to Mystic Falls, from New York?" Caroline frowned, still amazed by the friendliness between Bonnie and Klaus, who obviously knew a lot about each other's' careers. How come she hadn't heard of Klaus and his work up on the East coast? Was he really such a big shot? Was she behind on everything that happened in the world of crime investigation?

Klaus smiled, looking down at his boots, crossing his arms in front of him, mirroring Caroline's pose. "I did."

Bonnie observed the two of them, smiling slightly. There was something between the two of them that even she couldn't label (and hello, _she_ had a PhD in Forensic Psychology).

"Why did you move? Did you want to be a big fish in small pond?" Caroline scoffed, eyeing him judgingly. Honestly, that would be so him and she had only known him for such a short time.

"That's a discussion for another time, Forbes. Let's focus on the case for now. How about that?" he stated, losing his playful demeanour as his jaw stiffened, and a serious glare overtook his face.

Why was she so hostile towards him? He thought they had gotten over their argument in their woods, but now they were back to where they started. She had agreed to accept their differences in course of methods to an investigation, but now she shut him off again and even accused him of being here in Mystic Falls only to boost his ego. And that was definitely not the case.

She wasn't finished discussing his motives for applying for a job at her station, but Caroline found herself accepting his suggestion.

"Sure. Back to the case then."

After showing Bonnie the pictures from the crime scene on her laptop, they both watched the brunette go into some kind of mental state where she gazed at the pictures, studying them as they were pieces of art telling their own story in their own, bloody, horrifying way.

At some point Klaus caught himself looking at the blonde instead, as Bonnie studied the pictures on the screen, her blonde locks framing her face as she watched her friend doing her job. Her beauty was obvious, her features like an angel's with the soft, creamy skin and warmth radiating from her.

Suddenly, Caroline felt a pair of eyes on her, and she looked to the side, watching Klaus observe her with a slightly stunned expression, his eyes narrowed and calculating.

Neither said a word, and Caroline felt a tiny shiver run down her spine and to her surprise she suddenly noticed how attractive her new partner actually was.

His scruffy stubble which covered his masculine jaw and those raspberry lips that instantly caught her attention. And his eyes; his blue pools that seemed to be deep and showed both cold and warmth. She was drawn to his eyes and felt like she could gaze into them for hours, to find out what they had seen and what emotions they hid.

Despite their tempers, their pride, their arrogance, they both felt the pull and that was also why neither of them broke eye contact as they watched the other, taking in the tiniest details. A pull they could not deny; it fluttered between them as a ray of sunshine – visible to the eye, but uncatchable.

It was new to both of them, scary to a certain degree because they hadn't let themselves feel for such a long time, but so many things stood in the way for them to ever want to reveal it to the world and to the other.

"Well, it's clearly a real psychopath we're dealing with here," Bonnie stated firmly, breaking the silence and ruining the moment for Klaus and Caroline's intense staring. "First of all, the torn off jaw is not your average cause of death. See how it's practically torn off? There are some serious reasons behind this; why else make the effort to tear it from the skull this brutally? I'm sure it takes a whole lot of strength to do so, but Stefan will know more about that than me for sure. Then there's the ropes," Bonnie said, changing pictures to a close-up of the tight ropes to the wrists and ankles, pointing at it to amplify her theory.

Both Klaus and Caroline leaned closer to the screen, almost bumping into each other's heads as they hovered over Bonnie. They instantly made eye contact again, but Klaus leaned backwards so Bonnie wouldn't notice their closeness, making room for Caroline to inspect the pictures more detailed.

"The ropes are a sign that he or she really wanted to make sure that the girl didn't run. They're bound so tightly, that it must have hurt a whole lot on the poor girl. She was helpless when her jaw was separated from her skull; the killer wanted her to know that there was no way out of this. And whoever did this, wanted to be in control. With a victim unable to escape, it's all a game. It's all about the main character, which in this case is the murderer."

"Why is it about the murderer and not the victim?" Caroline asked genuinely, studying the pictures with a bad taste in her mouth.

"Because it's his or her story being told. It's about the connection the murderer has to the victim. He or she wanted to see the fear in the victim's eyes, to see life literally leave her body when the jaw was torn off. The killer wanted to enjoy every single moment of this performance."

"Am I right to expect more killings from this particular murderer?" Klaus asked, looking at Bonnie who just nodded quietly in response.

They all seemed to realize the seriousness of the situation. A small station like theirs had never seen crimes in this scale and they would need to perform their very best in order to catch the killer, whom they had no clue about whatsoever. They didn't even know the identity of the girl yet.

"There's more. The crime scene is not just random, I assume that the killer chose the sight very carefully. I know it's off the running trail, but it's still in the area of the most flocked part of the woods. A lot of hikers, joggers and dog walkers appear in this zone. It's like a scene; a place for a performance. The killer wanted this body to be found and wanted to reach a broad audience."

"What about the chair?" Caroline asked, looking at Bonnie who instantly scrolled to a picture of the body bound tightly to the chair.

"Maybe a part of the theatrics? That's a good question actually," Bonnie mumbled, her mouth a flat line as she inspected the picture. "I have nothing else for now, so maybe you should go and check with Stefan and then I'll dig into the whole chair thing. There's a reason behind everything in this case, I just sense it."

Klaus was about to turn around and leave, when Caroline stopped him. "Before we head down to Stefan to see if he has in ID on the body, would you mind stopping by that sandwich place downtown? All this investigative stuff has really got me working up an appetite. And I just need a minute with Bonnie alone. Is that okay?"

Klaus nodded, sending Caroline a small smile. "Sure. Any preferences in your choice of sandwich?"

"Nope. I trust you'll pick something edible," she said, before he turned around to leave. "I'll have coffee ready for us when you're back! Or do you prefer tea? Since you're British and everything."

"No tea. Coffee is good, preferably as black as my soul, Forbes!" he shouted back as he walked towards the hallway.

"I'll see you in twenty then! Oh, annd I suggest that we eat before going to Stefan!" Caroline muttered, watching him stroll towards the door, walking down the aisle between the shelves.

"That's sounds a like a plan," he shouted back, before exiting the archives.

Bonnie turned around in her chair, eyeing Caroline teasingly.

"Look at the two of you; already getting along. Now that is progress right after the book."

"Bon, stop! I'm done talking about Klaus and I."

"You want to talk about you and him another day then? You know where to find me," Bonnie winked, loving to push Caroline's buttons.

Both girls laughed, before Caroline regained seriousness and looked at Bonnie, catching her attention.

"I'm having nightmares again, Bonnie."

The brunette reached out to take her friend's hand, urging Caroline to sit on the edge desk before speaking.

"Care, you've had these nightmares ever since it happened."

Caroline gripped Bonnie's hand tighter.

"I know, but it's more frequently now; almost every night. Sometimes I even feel like my mother is standing in front of me with the wound in the stomach, in my office, in my livingroom. It's freaking me out. It just seems… so real."

"You need to talk about it Care. There must be some unfinished business since you keep dreaming about it," Bonnie said, squeezing the blonde's hand to let her know she was there every waking hour of the day.

 _Unfinished business._

What unfinished business would there be? She had had her fair share of sessions with a psychiatrist back when the accident happened. She sure felt like she had talked about it enough so why did these nightmares keep haunting her?

 _Caroline watched her mother's gravesite; her only relative besides her father now in the company with just her coffin and earthworms – the earth still fresh as the coffin had just been covered with dirt._

" _Caroline, it's time to go home. I promise you that we'll take good care of you, okay honey?" Miranda Gilbert said to her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder._

 _How could the world expect her to just leave her mother like this? She had already failed as a daughter. At least that was what she felt like. She could have stopped her idiot father if she had just hidden the damn kitchen knives, for christ sake!_

 _Now, Miranda and the rest of the Gilbert family just expected her to leave the cemetery, drive with them to her home (god, she would never get used to that) and just start living again. Like nothing had happened._

 _She knew the Gilbert girls from school, the two identical twins whom no one could tell apart, Elena and Katherine, but she hadn't really talked to them since she mostly hung out with Bonnie, her childhood best friend._

 _A whole new way of living was in front of her and it scared the shit out of her control-freak, organizing self; a new home, two new sisters, a new set of parents (because honestly, she could never forgive her father) and a life without her beloved mother._

 _How would she ever watch Titanic again without her mother by her side? Or eat guacamole because it wasn't her special recipe? Or graduate high school without her sitting somewhere in the ocean of chairs when she would receive her diploma?_

 _The thoughts were running through her mind like a tornado and she didn't even realize that Miranda had literally put her to bed before she was looking up the white ceiling of her new room in her new home._

 _Emptiness filled her body, her mind, her soul and during that sleepless first night in the Gilbert residence, Caroline felt her identity, her holding point seep through the mattress and drift away._

 _From that moment she felt like nothing but an empty shell without a purpose or role in the world._

 _Weeks later, Katherine still hadn't said a word to her while Elena practically played the role of her new best friend. She still prefered Bonnie miles and miles over her, but having a supporting person like Elena in her now meaningless life made each day a little bit easier._

 _One day, when she had sat with her homework for hours literally, not having accomplished anything than to write her name and the date in the top right corner, Katherine suddenly appeared before her, closing the books and snatching her pen._

" _My parents are out for the night. Elena is out somewhere doing some charity work for the small, annoying loud children from 1st grade, and you and I are about to have some fun."_

" _Why are you here Katherine? You don't even talk to me during the day ever since I came here," Caroline scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her, clearly not impressed with her step sister's newfound interest in her._

" _Oh relax, Caroline. I'm all fun and much better company than 'Lena will ever be. But don't tell her I said that! And also: I found my dad's good stuff," Katherine grinned, pulling out two tumblers and a bottle of bourbon._

" _I'm not drinking that!" Caroline hissed, rising from her chair before Katherine grabbed her arm._

" _Hush now. I'm not forcing you to drink this okay? If you don't want to, fine. Just let me tell you one thing: Your mother died. And you haven't cried since the day of the funeral. You need to let all those emotions go, okay babe? I can't stand another minute of watching Elena dragging you into situations in which you actually don't want to participate in, hmm? Consider this an act of peace between us. I know: I'm a bitch. Elena is much more of a sweetheart, but god, it's so tiring! Join me for a fun night in the woods with a couple of my friends and let all those feelings go. I will be there for you Caroline, okay? I swear to you on my mother's Manolo Blahnik's." Katherine said teasingly, wiggling her right foot, showing off said boots._

 _As the realist Caroline is she uttered, "You're really gonna wear those to the woods?"_

 _Katherine walked to the center of the room, spinning around, showing off her outfit for the night: all in black, with a desperate show of cleavage. There must be boys within that group of friends Caroline thought to herself._

" _Of course. I may only be 14, but, Caroline, someone's gotta be the vixen when Elena took all the good girl trades, right? And besides; they're fabulous!"_

 _Hours later, they were at the bonfire in the woods, all drunk on stolen booze, random couples making out in the corners. Caroline and Katherine sat on a log, both drunk, and Katherine surprisingly held her hand as Caroline let the tears stream and felt a heavy weight lift off of her shoulders._

 _Katherine Gilbert really turned out to be the best sister after all._

"Care?"

Caroline blinked, coming back to reality where Bonnie was holding her hand, trying to get her to talk.

"I'm sorry, Bon. My mind drifted off for a second."

"Promise me you'll call me when you feel ready to talk about it, okay? In the meantime, find out what could the case of unfinished business. I'm positive there must be something left unsaid inside of you that needs resolvement." Bonnie said smiling, squeezing her hand.

"I promise," Caroline answered, putting a thankful hand on Bonnie's shoulder, before leaving the archives, her inner turmoil somewhat settled for the time being.

 _Now, time for coffee and lunch._

* * *

"God, I'm starving!" Caroline huffed as she entered Klaus's office with two mugs in her hands, the coffee as black as his soul just like he had ordered and hers with enough milk to consider it a latte.

As she took a seat at the opposite side of where Klaus was seated at the desk, she then acknowledged that his office was much bigger than hers and had a better view.

"How come you get the bigger office and the good view? I've worked here longer than you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with sarcasm and her eyes wide. Just the thought of moving office now and reorganizing everything _plus_ redecorating it to make it more homey was just stressful.

He just laughed at her statement, giving her her sandwich.

"I believe it was in my contract actually, and I quote: 'Employment is under the circumstances that homicide detective Niklaus Mikaelson is rewarded with the biggest office with the nice view of the big tree on the front lawn,'" his voice mirroring her obvious sarcasm.

When she chuckled at his statement, he couldn't help but notice that her laugh was like music; addictive once you've listened to it. Surprisingly, he found himself in a position where he already thought of the next funny thing to say in order to make her laugh again.

Her face lit up like a clear summer day whenever she smiled and he enjoyed every second of it.

Taking a bite of her sandwich, she suddenly burst into laughter again, causing Klaus to look at her humorously.

"Everything alright, Forbes?"

Caroline nodded, chewing her bite before replying, "Yeah, sorry. I just didn't pick you for the funny type, but you made me chuckle and that's been a while since that happened."

He smiled at her reply, one of those rare a genuine smiles of his.

"I'm glad. I can be quite funny when I want to be."

She said nothing in return, just smiled politely, a smile that reached her eyes, before taking another bite.

They ate in silence, Klaus secretly admiring her from across the desk, before Caroline suddenly giggled again, tears forming in her eyes as her joyous laughter filling his office. He started chuckling as well, putting his sandwich down to prevent the filling from flying all around.

Once they were short of breath, both exhausted from laughing, Klaus eyed her again.

"What is so funny?"

"I have no idea how to say this without it sounding impolite, but I just really think you have a funny name," she said, a quiet laughter escaping her body, before stopping herself by putting a hand in front of her mouth.

He smiled.

"I do, and I can thank my dear mother for that. When I was born, she chose to name me after a great great great grandfather of mine. If only she had thought more about what curse she put on her son."

"I totally get why you prefer Klaus. When Shane introduced you to me this morning, I thought I misunderstood him when he said Niklaus. I'm sorry," she giggled again.

"No hard feelings, Forbes. I'm just glad my name, which haunted me throughout all of my school years, police academy included, is humouring you."

Again they just ended up smiling at each other, continuing to eat in silence.

"So why did you move to Mystic Falls from freaking NYC, _big fish?"_ Caroline teased, sending him flirty eyes (and yes, Klaus knew flirty eyes when he saw them).

Despite the flutter in his stomach when he saw her heated gaze, he felt a jolt of pain run through his veins: he wasn't ready to open up about what had happened, so he went for a white lie which wasn't all a lie.

"To be with family as a matter of fact. My baby sister never left town and my older brother lives not far away from here. I suppose I wanted to have them close. We all grew up her–"

"Wait what? You grew up here in Mystic Falls?"

He smiled at her.

"I did. I never thought I would come back here, but my sister needed me. Truth to be told, I had sworn that I would never return. But here we are, at the local police station, where I slept it off a few times in my younger years."

Yet again, she laughed at his story, her smile slowly melting his numb heart.

"Didn't we all? I didn't sleep at the time though; I was so busy trying to relieve my cop fantasy at the age of 19. Luckily my sister got us out of here before we got into trouble and I on the other hand didn't get a spot on my criminal record."

Trying his hardest not to harden at her revelation of a _cop fantasy,_ he tried a different approach.

"I'm relieved. Or else this station wouldn't have such a gifted homicide detective at its service and I wouldn't have the pleasure of your company."

Stunned didn't even cover Caroline's reaction. This morning she, for one thing, had been hostile and super control freak-ish because he had waltzed into her station and surprisingly turned out to be a talented investigator, but also because it seemed to her like he enjoyed her bite; her bickering.

Bonnie had often told her that sometimes in her frustration she could end up saying some things that left people with an image of her like a crazy, neurotic control freak (which she was at times – like hello, who wasn't like that at some point in their lives?) who couldn't accept other opinions or ways than her own.

Given her current situation with the nightmares flocking her mind, she hadn't really been very polite towards Klaus on his first day at very stressful and demanding job, but he hadn't complained for a second.

Instead, he sat across from her, despite her attitude towards him, and actually complimented her even though they had never met each other less than 5 hours ago.

"Your company isn't the worst either, Mikaelson," she said, eyeing him, afraid to show too much emotion so she just went for a sassy reply.

* * *

"Well, well, well. Who thought Stefan Salvatore would be found in the basement of the Mystic Falls Police Department? And here I thought that I wouldn't see you again after we graduated from high school." Klaus said as he and Caroline walked into the lab which also functioned as a morgue for all Stefan's autopsies.

"Welcome to my humble dungeon of Death, Klaus. And by the way: Mystic Falls isn't all that bad - I assume you think as much since you also moved back here, buddy."

Klaus laughed, patting Stefan on the shoulder before leaning against the wall.

"I thought you wanted to be a doctor?" Klaus stated, looking surprisingly at one of his best high school buds.

He remembered Stefan best as the good looking guy whom all the girls sighed after; the guy who was excellent in sports and also as one of his closest friends back then. They'd spent many hours drinking bourbon (they tried to be fancy like that during high school) behind school, having a good time where Rebekah often had joined them as well. And he also thought of how many times Stefan had uttered a wish to become a doctor. Now he was, just not the kind of doctor Klaus would have thought him to be.

"I did, but some day during med school I just realized I couldn't stand the thought of people complaining about headaches and irrelevant rashes. I wanted to make a bigger difference and by investigating murders to catch the bad guy I suddenly gave the dead a voice again. And as horrifying as it may be at times, like with this one, it's the best job I could wish for."

"Are the two of you done with the bromance? Because if not I can just wait out in the hall?" Caroline asked with a grin on her face, making both men smile widely.

"All done, Care. Come on, I've got an ID on your Jane Doe," Stefan told her, walking over to the body which was covered with a white cloth.

Caroline and Klaus walked towards the table, positioning on opposite sides of it, waiting somewhat impatiently for Stefan to begin.

"We managed to ID her through dental records. Her name is Hayley Marshall, 23 years old. Cause of death is as you can imagine, the blood loss from the severed jaw. The force in which the jaw was torn off was so powerful that it severed an artery in her mouth region which ended her life. We also found traces of chloroform, so my guess is that she was sedated and then abducted."

Having heard her name before, Caroline realized that she knew Hayley; she was a few years younger than herself and had also attended Mystic Falls High School.

A shiver ran down her spine, thinking of the horrors and fright Hayley had had to endure in her last moments of her young life.

"Based on our analysis from the crime scene, the murder happened in the woods. She had no possibility of escape; the ropes were bound inhumanly tight and they had also stopped blood flow to both her hands and feet."

"Any traces of other DNA?" Klaus muttered, staring into the eyes of the Marshall girl.

"None whatsoever. The person who did this was clever enough to clean up after himself or clever enough to not leave any traces that could lead back to him. My guess is the latter."

Stefan walked over to the messy desk, fidgeting with some papers before returning, handing Klaus some of them. "Alaric did a background check on her. Since dropping out of high school, she had quite a colored life."

"Dropped out one year before graduating, began working at a bar outside of town for a few years, out on one of the main roads. Bar owner, Magda Polanska, caught her several times in compromising positions with the bar customers which lead to Magda firing her. Homeless for two months, seen in the northern industrial area where the prostitutes find their clientele until moving in with a Jackson Kenner, unemployed carpenter and full time drunk. They have a daughter together, age 1. Hayley was still unemployed when she died and her boyfriend Jackson has not yet reported her missing," Klaus read aloud, the description giving a clear picture of the young girls troublesome life.

"Any signs of rape?" Caroline asked, mortified with the tale of Hayley's gruesome life.

"No, nothing points to that. I'm getting a feeling that this girl was chosen for an entire different reason, so it is your job to figure out why. Anyway, I'm all done and would like to get home before it's too late so…" Stefan implied, shedding the lab coat only to retrieve his leather jacket.

For a morgue guy, with the trademark frown on his features, Stefan was extremely good looking and knew how to style and Caroline realized that it was impressive that he didn't have a girlfriend, but then it hit her that Stefan always talked about work whenever he had time off and that was way too much talk about death for the average woman.

Stefan locked the door to the morgue and said his goodbyes, leaving Klaus and Caroline in the cellar hallway.

"We should pay this Jackson guy a visit first thing tomorrow." Caroline stated as they walked up the stairs to the main floor.

"That sounds like a plan, sweethear- I mean Forbes. Sorry, old habits die hard I guess."

"Not your fault that Brits have such charming manners."

He watched a blush creep to her cheeks when she realised what she'd said as they left the station, walking to the parking lot.

Exhaustion hit her like a tidal wave as they got out into the chilly spring air, her bones aching after a long day. All she wanted to do was to go home, lie on the couch, have a glass of white wine and just fall asleep there, resting both body and mind.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Caroline," Klaus shouted before he hopped into his enormous SUV, sending her an honest smile on the way as well.

It ached inside of him to taste the bourbon again, the flask permanently present in his back pocket and he could have sworn that during this tiresome day it had began burning because it wanted to be found (a flask going all Lord of the Rings on him, bloody true).

As he watched her drive away, a longing to talk more to her just because was such an intriguing young woman (with both personality and a killer body which he just wanted to get to know on an entirely intimate level) left inside of him, he lifted his hips to grab the flask, opening the lid and have his first mouthful in hours.

The alcohol burned to pleasantly, just the way he liked it, the aftertaste lingering on his tongue and he couldn't resist taking yet another sip.

.

.

.

Hours later, he was slightly drunk, and lying on his enormous bed, alone and in a state of thoughtfulness. He should be sleeping by now, but a certain blonde occupied his mind.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just courage, but moments later he was in his SUV, driving out into the night.

There was just something about her that kept fascinating him; kept pulling him into her undertow. Normally he didn't care because it was too much of a risk, but with her it was inevitable: as much as he tried to resist it would never work. She had somehow, just during a day, made him fall into that pit of emotion from which he had been avoiding for a long time now.

He had sworn to himself that it wouldn't happen again; because feeling was a direct way to hurting and sorrow, things he had spent way too much time on already.

But here he was, feeling again, putting his car to a stop in front of the small townhouse where Caroline lived alone on the first floor (pulling the address for your new, goddess of a co-worker during work hours was no crime in Klaus' book, just a smart move if he came in need of her help).

Letting the alcohol do it's job, he turned off the engine and hopped out, walking to the door.

* * *

Caroline threw herself on her couch filled with soft pillows and different kinds of wooly blankets, exhaustion finding it's place in her body.

Fidgeting with the tumbler in her hand, she watched the amber liquid wet the insides of the glass, warming slightly because of her palm.

Honestly she shouldn't be drinking because there was a work day waiting for her full attention tomorrow, but today had been an eventful day and something in her subconscious told her that this case was something new; something complicated in scales they had never seen before.

Taking a sip, the bourbon burned in her mouth and throat; a part of her already regretted deciding on the strong drink instead of going for a beer. But here she was and she might as well drink it now that she poured it.

Staring into emptiness for a few minutes, she then reached for her phone and dialed a well-memorized number.

" _My sweet sister."_

"Hey Kat."

" _Calling your sister in the late hours? Let me guess - you shacked someone hot with the intention of letting him go, but now it's a different case."_

Caroline scoffed into the phone; Katherine had always known which buttons to press in order to tease and irritate her.

"Not quite. I'm perfectly capable of dividing sex and relationships into two different categories, Kat."

" _Okay, I will shut it. Why are you calling? Miss me already?"_

"I guess I am. How are things with you and Elijah? Still in the honeymoon phase after two years?" Caroline asked, taking another sip and dwelling on the burn of it.

" _You know how people always say that reality will hit after a few years together? And how Elijah was always the moral, ethical one? Care, I'm telling you, the sex is–"_

"No details, Katherine! I told you that a million times already, okay? I'm still not over the fact that you guys consecrated your wedding night underwear the day _before_ the wedding in your hotel room and that I had to listen to you rambling about it on your big day. We get it: you and Elijah have a _very_ great sex-life, the whole goddamn state of Virginia knows!"

Katherine just laughed on the other end of the phone, clearly not affected by Caroline's little rant and clearly not done talking about her and Elijah's bedroom (or not bedroom) manners ever.

"I still have to see your new house, Kat."

" _Yes you do. And that is why you should move your firm ass into your car and drive to Richmond to visit us! I'm fairly sure Elijah hasn't seen you since the wedding actually. But that's life with my family. You work too much on that god forsaken police station and my husband is busy at court."_

Guilt and annoyment struck her because she knew Katherine was telling the truth. Sure; Elijah and Katherine were still madly in love after all these years, but with a demanding job as a high ranked (and also well payed) attorney, the hours spent in the court were of more than those spent in his own house, which meant that Katherine often spent her nights alone in their newly bought house.

"I know I promised to visit more often, Kat. But as for now, we have this case that needs my full attention."

" _Good thing you can't see my judgy eyes through the phone, huh?"_ Katherine joked, a slight hint of loneliness and disappointment in her voice which didn't go unnoticed by Caroline.

"I promise you to have a fantastic girls night out when I hit Richmond as soon as this case is done, finito. God, I miss having a good time with you, sis."

" _Me too, darling. Can't wait to show Richmond what it's been missing as soon as you come here. And just to be clear: don't bring one of your boytoys when you arrive. It's a sister arrangement only. I will even send Elijah way for the night."_

"You know I don't do relationships, Kat."

" _I know. I just don't want you to fall head over heels for one of those pretty boys whom satisfy your needs because deep, deep down you still care–"_

"Kat, it's none of your business! I swore an oath to myself that I wouldn't do relationships, okay? They always fail. Yes, I'm happy you found Elijah, and yes I'm happy that you two can make it work, but I'm just not that girl. I could have been, but Tyler sure put an end to that when he dumped me and broke my heart by impregnating Liv all those years ago, even though we were still technically together. And don't remind me of the fact that he and Liv moved away to start up a new life as a family. I'm sure he's happy and so am I. I've moved on and maybe sleeping with cute guys I meet at bars isn't your best advice, but it works. It works for me and that's what counts."

" _Okay,_ " was all Katherine said and both girls knew that was enough; their bond was close and the invisible understanding for each other stood clearly in situations like this one, where Katherine ultimately just wanted to be supportive despite their different opinions.

Silence fell between them before Caroline suddenly asked: "Any news from Elena?"

" _Not a word. But I'm pretty sure my twin sister meant it when she said she never wanted to talk to me ever again. She was always so dramati–"_

A jolt ran through Caroline's body as someone knocked on her front door. _Who needed to see her at this hour?_ It couldn't be the guy from last night because she made it perfectly clear to him that last night was a one time thing.

"Someone's at the door, I gotta run, Kat."

" _Oooh a naughty booty call. Maybe it's Julio with the six pack, tanned skin–"_

"Stop it!" Caroline laughed, rising from her couch walking towards the door. "Yes I shagged a guy named Julio with a six pack, tanned skin and long, black hair with waaay too much hair gel, okay, but I was drunk and drunk on Tequila that is. I really gotta go, Kat. Tell your busy husband I said hi," Caroline said before opening the front door. _She really needed to call her landlord to get a door spy installed._

"Who's "Julio"?" the person slurred, inches away from her face as he leaned against the door with his left arm above his head, his lower arm keeping him in balance against the door frame.

"Klaus?"

* * *

Davina Claire was on her way home from her evening jog, walking the quiet streets of Mystic Falls, when she noticed with that sixth sense of hers that she was being followed.

Wise enough to not let it show, she secretly started walking a bit faster, hearing the footsteps behind her quickening as well.

 _Shit._

 _Don't show it. Don't let the person get to you. Don't look over your shoulder and reveal your fear._

Her heart was pounding in her chest by now and in a moment of panic, she turned down the _wrong_ side road.

 _Dammit!_

Now she couldn't turn around at all.

Her mind started running wild, the tension and fear manifesting itself in her pace and suddenly she was running.

Within seconds she was grabbed from behind, the intruder pulling her tightly against a firm body.

"Let me go!" she screamed, desperately trying to release herself from the tight grip.

Screaming didn't really help much she realized, as she recognized her surroundings as the abandoned warehouse area just down one of the side roads to the main street.

 _Fuck._

A nose was suddenly inhaling her scent in the crook of her neck, caressing her olive skin in the most tender yet disgusting way.

"You remind me of someone I knew," the voice said in a whisper.

Davina tried turning her head, wanting to face her fear and put a face on her attacker, but suddenly a hand was on her neck, preventing her from moving.

"You smell just like her; sweet and innocent."

Tears were now streaming down her face, the terror in her body of a caliber she had never experienced and never thought she would experience, but here she was.

 _It's over._

 _This is the end of everything._

"I watched you. Since I saw you at the Grill you never escaped my mind. You're so beautiful, just like her."

She was screaming now, her mind only set on wanting someone to hear her. But the hold on her tightened to a much more painful one, feeling her bones reaching the point where they could easily break; the worst kind of pain she had ever felt.

"She wasn't a screamer though. So shut up; shut your fucking mouth and _HONOR HER."_

"Please don't kill me!" Davina sobbed, her life passing by in her mind; her first ice cream, her dog as a cute, fluffy puppy, her first bike ride, her first kiss.

Then a hand was promptly on her throat, the pressure making her fight for air, choking slowly.

"Don't. Fucking. Talk."

She shook her head, complying the command. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears by now.

"I need you to honor her for me, Davina Claire. For your sake and mine."

Feeling brave, she spoke. "Honor who?"

"Oh, I will tell you," the voice paused and then, "just before I kill you," the voice said, pushing a cloth to her mouth and nose.

Davina didn't even manage to let out a scream before everything went black.

.

.

.

He watched his piece of art, satisfied with the outcome.

She was still breathing though and he needed to fix that.

Nearing her he watched panic and terror in her beautiful eyes and it pleased him; oh how it pleased him.

"So I promised you to let you in on a little secret…" he whispered, slowly tightening something around her throat, squeezing the life out of her ever ever so slowly.

Just before she drew her last breath, he kneeled in front of her and hovered just before her face. "You remind me of my adorable, yet not surprisingly pesky little sister."

* * *

 **So, chapter three for you. Thoughts? Theories? Anything? Let me know in a review ;)**

 **Nat**


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